


Tremors

by Vennat



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Cruciatus Curse, Harry Potter - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, ON HIATUS!!!!!!!, PTSD, Trauma, Unbeta'd, Unexplicit abuse, cedric diggory - Freeform, draco is gonna be somewhere not quite sure where yet, i guess, i really shouldn't be starting another fic but this one just sounds so fun, kinda dark and sad, never described in detail, panic tremors, snape mentor au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-13 10:44:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9120178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vennat/pseuds/Vennat
Summary: After the events in the end of Goblet of Fire, Harry gets a tremor. The tremor stems from the torture of the Cruciatus Curse. Harry, with his hero complex, refuses to tell anyone, until it spirals far out of his control.





	1. teaser

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me if you see any spelling or grammar errors :)

Every time he closes his eyes, he sees flashes of green, a body slumping at his feet. He feels his own screams ripping out of his throat. The sweat trickling down his spine.

  
So he doesn't close his eyes.

  
He sits awake at night, shivering inside his thin night shirt. His hands are shaking too much to pull the covers over himself, so he sits there. He lets his mind play the scenes of the graveyard over and over again.

  
He won't lay down again, scared to wake Ron with his sobs. Scared he’ll ask question.

  
The sun rises, and he climbs from the bed. His hands are still shaking as he dresses. As he brushes his teeth. As he eats breakfast.

  
But it’s small enough, insignificant enough that no one notices, which he is thankful for. He doesn't point it out, either, when they say nothing. He doesn't want to waste their time on _him_ of all people.

  
Him.

  
A murderer.

 


	2. chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As in Order Of The Phoenix, a team of order members come to take Harry to Grimmauld place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somive deviated a tINY bit from the original book, but it's still a very similar plot. Please tell me if you see any grammatical or spelling errors!

The Dursley’s had never much appreciated being awoken by screams, a claim Harry could validate with the bruises on his body. So Harry sat awake in terror, body stiff from the thin mattress in Dudley’s second bedroom. Uncle Vernon had said that if Harry woke them screaming one more time, he wouldn't even be able to walk out the door to go to his ‘freak school’. But no one could stay awake forever, and soon Harry's eyelids slipped closed.

_“We’ll grab it together.” He could hear himself saying, he could see his hand on the cup. Fingers grasping the handle the same time as Harry's. He could feel his feet pressing into the soft ground of the graveyard._

_He could see everything around him in a blur. A green jet of light shooting towards Cedric. His feet running towards him, too late, too late. Falling on his needs beside him, too late, too late. Cedric is laughing._

_“Too late. Too late. Too late to save me.” His lips are splitting, grin too wide. “Too late to save me, murderer._ Your _fault I'm dead.”_

“Cedric!” He jerked backwards in terror, head banging into the wall behind him. An answering bang could be heard down the hall, likely the door to Uncle Vernon’s room slamming open. Heavy thumps tracked their way towards Harry’s bedroom, the wooden planks creaking beneath the heaving weight of Harry's uncle.

“Boy!” He roared, and Harry's door crashed open. Uncle Vernon was coming at him so suddenly that Harry didn't have time to duck, Vernon’s hand already swinging towards his face.

                        ~|o|~  
Harry awoke to swollen eyes, and a trail of blood slipping over his lips and onto his chin. He lifted hand towards his mouth to wipe it off, hands shaking ever so slightly.

“Up, you nasty child!” The harsh words from Aunt Petunia were accompanied by an equally harsh banging to his closed bedroom door, and Harry stood, heading for the door. He opened it, and his aunt sneered at him.

“Clean yourself up. Quickly.” She handed him a worn washcloth, and Harry quickly went to the bathroom down the hall, knowing he would have little time. He ran the rag under the water, before gently cleaning up the blood from his nose. A few moments later, Petunia again slammed a flat hand against the door.

He opened the door and slipped out, feet bringing him to the kitchen without much thought. A quick glance at the clock told him that it was around 10 in the morning, meaning he had been unconscious for several hours. It should have worried him, but by now it had happened so much he didn't think much of it. Petunia shoved a bag of icing into his hand, gesturing towards a cake on the counter.

“Put flowers on it, and try not to breathe anywhere near it.” Her lips were curled in a sneer, and he turned towards the confectionary dessert silently, and started on his work.

He was only a few minutes into the task when things began to go wrong, his hands shaking harshly. None of the lines he applied were straight anymore, the violent shaking in his hands too much.

Harry willed with all his might for his hands to still, and eventually he brought his hands back under control. But his breathing was heavy from the effort, and soon Petunia swooped in.

“What's wrong with you child? Stop breathing like that, you'll ruin the cake.” She took a spatula from her pocket and straightened a few of the lines of icing Harry had messed up. “Be more careful.” The words were curt, and she immediately walked away from Harry.

Harry breathed a quiet sigh of relief, the sound of his aunt’s clicking heels echoing around him. He finished with the cake a moment later, setting the packet of icing inside the fridge and pushing the cake farther back on the stove.

Harry then turned, leaving the kitchen and heading out to the garden to weed it. He knew his aunt would tell him to do so later, so he hoped that if he got a head start on it now he might actually be able to get some lunch.

  
                        ~|0|~  
Harry lay in his bed that night, wide awake from lack of food he had received that day. He waited, listening to see when Uncle Vernon would finally fall asleep.

Moments later, Harry heard the loud rumbles that indicated Vernon was asleep. In response to the noise, Harry rolled from the bed, and padded on soft feet to the left side of his room. He fell to his knees quietly, and pried up the loose floorboard. Reaching his hand in the dark hole, he wiggles his fingers around until he felt the smooth bottles of a potion.

He pulled out, and squinted his eyes in the faint lighting, and through cracked glasses, he was almost sure the potion said _Dreamless Sleep_. Harry uncorked it, and drank half of it.

He replaced the floorboard, and stood up quietly. He slid under the thin blankets on his bed, and closed his eyes, completely forgetting about the fragile potion bottle held tightly in his grip. As he closed his eyes and slipped into a quiet sleep, for once, no green light flashed behind his eyelids.

  
                       ~|0|~  
It was two days later, and Harry was once again sat up in bed late at night. His eyes were staring blankly at the letter in his hands. It was on official Ministry Of Magic letter, one that said he was kicked out of Hogwarts. His hands were shaking, and he was unsure whether it was from anger or terror.

Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley were out, at some sort of award ceremony. Not much to his surprise, they had left Harry at home. Locked in his room, but home nonetheless. Hedwig hooted quietly, and Harry looked up. Hedwig was a quiet bird, somehow knowing innately that any noise would not end well for her.

Harry perked up, hearing quiet voices downstairs. Whispering, but there were enough of them that Harry could hear the buzz of their conversation. He couldn't make any words out, but he could hear the noise produced by multiple people moving around. A few clinks, a couple bumps, but nothing more than that. After a moment, there was silence, before a voice spoke a tad louder than the rest, which was loud enough for Harry to hear with his ear pressed to the floor.

“Where is he?” Harry recognized it as Mad Eye Moody’s, and couldn't quite understand why he was here.

“We did get the address right, didn't we?” A feminine voice rang out, one Harry didn't recognize.

“This is Harry’s home, Ron and the Twins said so. They've been here before.” That voice was one he recognized as Mr. Weasley’s and he opened his eyes a bit wider in surprise. An idea began to form in his mind. He raised a fist and banged it hard against the floor, hopefully loud enough for the people below to hear him. Hedwig jumped in surprise.

“I'm up here! I'm here, Mr. Weasley! Up the stairs!” His voice was strained from lack of talking over the last few days of not talking. In response, Harry heard a bit of excited chatter below him.

“Harry!” It was Mr. Weasley. “Come down here, Harry!” Harry grinned, excited that they wanted to see him. It quickly dropped from his face when he realized his predicament.

“I- I can't. The door’s locked!” He heard a bit of angry muttering below, before the pounding noises of someone running up the stairs. Harry stood up excitedly, a smile adorning his features at the excitement of contact with the wizarding world, even if it was temporary.

He could hear a quiet _Alohomora_ before the door opened to reveal Mr. Weasley, smiling at him. The smile quickly dropped from his features, and Harry’s heart stuttered in his chest.

“What? What's wrong?” He asked, almost terrified of the answer he might get.

“Your face…” said Mr. Weasley, stepping forward. “What happened Harry?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to @griffinpuffgirl for commenting and dropping a kudo's. Im so sorry this is 2 days later than promised :p I wasn't quite see what to end this with, but don't worry, I've got much more to write.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The order arrived for harry! Sorry if it's off of the canon I'm going mostly of memory, and it will differ from cabin the slightest bit, but will atilltechincally be canon compliant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please notify me of any grammar or spelling mistakes! Enjoy the chapter, :)

Harry took a short step backwards, panic filling his chest. He brought up a sheepish smile, trying to quell the sudden and strong feeling of panic. His hands shook.

“You know me,” an awkward laugh, and a shaking hand hidden from vision with an imaginary itch on his neck.

“Clumsy. As always. Fell down the stairs.” Mr. Weasley gave him an odd look, a mixture of pity and anger. Harry cringed an inch or two back from the gaze before he could stop himself. Mr. Weasley heaved a heavy sigh.

“There are other Order members downstairs. We're ready to take you to Grimmauld place if you're ready to go.” Harry nodded so quickly and with so much ferocity that his neck cracked. Arthur laughed, and this time it was sincere. He gestured with his hand, and Harry grabbed Hedwig, before stepping out after him into the hall.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Harry stepped down, and a smile immediately graced his features, seeing the small ensemble in his kitchen. Most of the faces were unfamiliar to him, but knowing that they were with Mr. Weasley reassured him of his safety with them, especially pitted against that of staying in with Vernon. Moody stepped forward.

“Where's your broom, laddie?” Harry's steps faltered for a moment. Was there any reason he could possibly pass off as to why his school things were locked in his old room? He'd have to just hope they thought it was for safekeeping. Harry extended a hand, pointing towards the aforementioned room.

“They're there, in my old roo- the cupboard. Under the stairs.” He finished the sentence stiffly, cheeks flushed a bright and violent red. Arthur raised a questioning brow at him, and the look on his face clearly read _we’ll talk about this later._ Harry's blush deepened, if that was possible. He would have to remember that, however mundane it seemed to him, Mr. Weasley _had_ been working for the ministry for a long time.   
  
Moony walked the short distance with purpose, and a silent tap of the doorknob with his wand had the handle unlocked with a _click!_ He then slide open the deadbolt attached to the top of the door, and Harry saw Mr. Weasley look in confusion at the lock. He was going to have to come up with the lie of a _lifetime_ to get out of this one unscathed.

Moony cracked the door open, before bending down and picking up Harry's broom. He also pulled his trunk out, dragging it swiftly by the handle. He wave his wand and muttered a spell Harry couldn't hear, and trunk shrank down to the size of Harry’s fist. Moony gestured for Harry to come forward and grab his things, so he did. He bent over, scooping up his shrunken trunk and broom. A grimace lit upon his features as he bent, the split skin on his back stretching in protest. Harry was quick to lay his features flat again when he stood up.

He turned, slipping the trunk into his pocket, and walking back to where he'd set Hedwig’s cage on the ground. He stooped once more, this time managing to keep a neutral expression on his features as he slipped his fingers through the loop on the top of Hedwig's cage. Facing the others again, Moony thrust the room in his direction, and Harry took it from him.

“General protection flying formation. Harry is our main priority. We do not stop for _anything_ , or _anyone_. Understood?” The other Order members nodded, and Harry was shocked at how willingingly they were risking their lives for him. How could they possibly be so generous with something so precious as their lives. The tremor is back in his hands and he can't get that one word to stop ringing in his head oh god-

_Murderer_.

He almost turns around, eyes widening in what might be a comical look of surprise in any other situation. Slowly, the quiet buzz of preparatory plans fades from his hearing. The sound of the singular word- _murderer_ \- is ringing in his ears. Over and over and over-

Someone grabs his shoulder.

Harry jumps, and the color seems to bleed back into the world. His lungs inflate, suddenly so full of oxygen that it comes rushing out in a thick, shaky gasp. Arthur turned Harry to face him, and he was speaking. His lips were moving and Harry couldn't make out a single word he was saying. And his hands were shaking. And his shoulders were shaking. His face was wet. Why? He couldn't quite figure out, and his hands were shaking so badly he couldn't focus on anything else.

The word was still there. Sitting in the shell of his ear, resting on the tip of his tongue, a dragging weight hanging off his shoulder

_Murderer_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, @griffinpuffgirl, I'm so sorry. I will definitely be creating some buffer chapters so this does not happen again.


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